


yêu hay không yêu (không yêu hay yêu), nói một lời

by all_their_intricacies



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Arguably Bad Matchmaking, Arguably Bad Pick-Up Lines, Crack, Humor, I'd go as far as saying this is an AU lol, M/M, Matchmaking, Not Canon Compliant, POV Outsider, Pick-Up Lines, Pure Crack y'all, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:20:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24682984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_their_intricacies/pseuds/all_their_intricacies
Summary: Five times Stiles hits on Theo for Scott in a misguided attempt to get his best friend laid, and the One time he realizes it was all in vain.
Relationships: Chris Argent/Melissa McCall (background), Lydia Martin/Stiles Stilinski (background), Scott McCall/Theo Raeken
Comments: 5
Kudos: 73





	yêu hay không yêu (không yêu hay yêu), nói một lời

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [this scene](https://notjustaprincess-youknow.tumblr.com/post/165530828314/cestmoipenelope) in Parks and Rec
> 
> I started this a long, _long_ time ago, but finally found the motivation to finish it now. Now, there was no notes, no outlines to work with, but I remember the concept I wanted to go with well enough to churn this out while barely remembering anything from the show. So, if there's anything that seems weird or OOC, go ahead and tell me about it in the comments.
> 
> // title taken from _[Bùa Yêu by Bích Phương](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FkOt19CUC30)_ ; could be translated to _love or not, just say a word_

**One.**

See, the whole thing starts out as nothing more than a haphazard joke that stems from a surplus of frustration, fed-up-ness, and — if you wanna get mushy about it, love.

Truly, Stiles loves Scott. They’ve been best friends since… _for_ as long as Stiles could remember, so all of this, it’s actually coming from the bottom of his heart. From _love_. And by _this,_ of course, Stiles means the long winding and _very_ coherent rant about the obvious attraction between their resident True Alpha and that _goddamned_ Chimera of Death. More importantly, it’s about the lack of anyaction to turn said attraction into something more meaningful.

Now, don’t get him wrong, Stiles fucking _hates_ Theo, but goddamnit, he doesn’t think there’s anything worse than having to watch the two aforementioned idiots dance around their feelings like they’re playing hopscotch. And they’re not even good at it— which adds a whole new layer of frustration-inducing bullshit to this whole entire thing. Frankly, Stiles is sick of it.

Lydia — bless her — only looks vaguely murderous as she listens on, nodding absently and rolling her eyes like she always does when Stiles talks about this issue. And let’s get one thing very clear here. This — this _whole deal_ — is an issue. It’s a fucking _problem_ , and somehow, Stiles seems to be the only one who can see and understand that.

“That’s because you’re crazy,” Lydia comments, eyes admiring her perfectly manicured nails.

“I’m not crazy, okay?” Stiles argues, sounding crazy. “I’m _invested_.”

“O-kay,” Lydia replies in a sing-song voice, sounding not at all convinced.

Stiles huffs, momentarily distracted by the cute dimples on her cheeks, almost hitting an on-coming car on the other lane because of it. At Lydia’s indignant expression, Stiles quickly shifts his eyes back to the road ahead and focuses on driving again. That lasts for about — hm, maybe one minute, maybe less, before stiles continues on where he’s left off from his rant about Scott and Theo, to Lydia’s sufferance.

It goes on until they finally arrive at Scott’s house for their bi-weekly pack night — that _Theo_ is also invited to because _“He deserves a chance, Stiles,_ ” but Stiles, being the genius that he is, understands it as _“I have the hots for him and I want to see him around my house on a regular basis.”_ — and Lydia mumbles something that sounds like _‘thank God’_ under her breath before making her quick escape from Stiles’ jeep. Stiles, for his part, is all but _buzzing_ with high energy as marches up the front steps and into the house.

With an ungraceful flourish, Stiles drops down the armchair next to the couch, where Scott and Theo are sitting next to each other. Theo is engulfed in his phone — chuckling gleefully at something on screen — while Scott shifts through the selections of movies on Netflix. Neither of them seems to pay any attention to the other despite their close proximity.

Stiles purses his lips, staring dagger at the two of them. It’s sort of fucked up that they both seem fine with their current situation, while Stiles is over here, trying to keep himself from imploding with sheer frustration alone.

That frustration, however, lowers a _slight_ bit as Stiles focuses more on the sweater Theo’s wearing. His brain takes over the task of figuring out why it looks so familiar. Stiles has a feeling that he’s seen it before, but he cannot find any instances in his memory where he’s seen Theo in it. It does, however, give him an idea.

“Hey, Theo,” Stiles calls, but Theo doesn’t even bother looking up from his phone or act like he isn’t blatantly ignoring Stiles’ entire existence. Any other time, Stiles would have returned the sentiment, but this is important, and Stiles needs Theo’s attention for it. 

So, he does the one thing that is sensible to do when you’re trying to get someone’s — especially someone you don’t like — attention, which, of course, is kicking him right in the shin. _Hard._ It works perfectly as Theo groans in pain, finally looking up from his phone to glare at Stiles with thinly-veiled murder intent. Ignoring Scott’s exasperated _‘Stiles!’_ , Stiles returns the look with an overtly innocent smile.

“That sweater looks really nice on you,” he says.

Now, Stiles rarely (correction, _never_ ) compliments Theo without accompanying it with a cutting insult about his appearance or just him as a person, so it’s entirely understandable that Theo and Scott both stop to give him an incredulous look. Normally, Theo would have a quip ready to fire off against whatever Stiles may throw at him, but tonight, with the good mood he’s currently in, he decides it’s not worth it.

“Thanks, Stiles. It’s actually—”

“You know,” Stiles cuts in, nonchalant as if he’s talking about the weather, “I bet it’ll look even better on Scott’s floor.”

The abrupt mood change of the room is apparent as the words escape from Stiles’ mouth and hang around in the air like a weight over everyone’s head. Everything just comes to a halt; everyone within listening distance stops whatever they were doing and shifts their gaze towards the couch, where the awkward scene is taking place.

Scott, who has long stopped his search for a movie for the night, stares at Stiles like he’s grown a second head. For a moment he just stares at his best friend, trying to understand the jumbled mess that is Stiles’ thought process. Unfortunately, he comes up short and decides to just _ask_.

“Stiles…” he starts, narrowing his eyes as he tries to find a good way to put his question into words. “Did you— did you just hit on Theo? _For_ me?”

“Yeah,” Stile replies without missing a beat, nodding, because yes, he absolutely fucking did.

“Uh… Why?”

“I mean,” Stiles says, shrugging, “someone’s gotta.”

The confusion continues to fester on Scott’s face while, besides him, Theo stares at Stiles like he has truly gone mad when they weren’t paying attention — which, wouldn’t be that far out of left field, considering his track record. In the end, though, Theo only snorts, sticking to his decision of _not_ getting into this — whatever it is Stiles is trying to achieve here — and returns to scrolling through his phone.

“It probably will anyway,” Theo comments off-handedly, uncaring of the reaction it might invoke.

And, invoke, it does. Both Stiles and Scott sit straight up in their seat, all attention glued to Theo as they exclaim, in unison, “ _Huh?!_ ”

Someone would have made a comment about how cute they are, being in sync like that, but considering the bizarreness of this entire situation, no one utters a word. Instead, every member of the McCall pack looks on as Stiles and Scott bug their eyes out at their resident Chimera of Death, who only spares a glance at Scott through the corner of his eyes, a smirk caught on his lips.

“The sweater,” he says. “It’ll probably end up on your floor anyway, when I give it back to you.”

Now, Stiles thinks there must have been some piece of _vital_ information that is completely lost in this conversation because _what the actual fuck!?_ His mind comes to a full stop, which is something he’s not entirely proud to admit, and it lasts much too long before he finally regains his brain functions. Immediately, he zeros in the sweater Theo is wearing and realizes, at last, _why_ he found it so familiar.

Stiles has seen that sweater before, but not on Theo. No, it belongs to Scott, but somehow — for some _inane_ fucking reason, Theo is now wearing it. _God_ , he thinks, _this is it, this is finally it._ They have finally done the deal — the fact of life, the unspeakable, the _nasty_ — and maybe on the way out, Theo grabbed the wrong sweater by accident which leads to this. Oh God, Stiles hopes — prays, wishes — that that’s the case.

Reality, however, is often disappointing, and Stiles finds his fantasy — of a bright future of not having to witness the unsubtle pining of these two idiots, not of Scott’s sex life, ew — completely shattered as Mason steps in from somewhere to the left with an explanation. Mostly, it’s because he’s noticed the look on Stiles’ face, and Stiles looks like he’s about to implode from all the possible scenarios flying through his head at Theo’s seemingly nonchalant statement.

“Theo spilled coke on himself earlier,” the kid says, voice calm and collected, as if he’s talking down a madman. “So, Scott lent him the sweater so he wouldn’t have to sit through the whole night with a coke-stained shirt.”

Now, Stiles doesn’t throw his hands up to the sky, doesn’t groan out in frustration and face upward to the Gods above and ask for mercy, but it is a close thing. Instead, he closes his eyes, breaths calmly through his nose as he tries to grasp the underwhelming explanation for what could have been so good for _everyone_ involved.

Scott, for his part, doesn’t seem to notice his best friend’s turmoil, as his eyes don't stray off the side profile of Theo’s face. “Why would it end up on my floor?” he asks, and _that_ does make Stiles groan, knowing what to come.

“Because you have a habit of throwing your clothes on the floor, or any other surface in your room instead of putting them away in a closet like a well-adjusted person,” Theo responds without missing a beat or looking up from his phone. Still, there’s a tiny — _teensy, little —_ smile caught on the corner of his lips that has Stiles glaring at him in contempt.

“What!? No, I don’t!” Scott argues, pouting a little. If he’s trying to sound affronted, then he’s doing a really bad job at it. The affection is so apparent not only in his words, but also behind the glint in his eyes.

Truly, that would have been cute — just a little bantering between lovers, but that’s also why this thing is ruining Stiles’ ability to enjoy anything when the two of them are in close proximity. Because the fact is that, they’re _not_ lovers, while they could very obviously be, and they don’t seem _at all_ bothered by it.

They’re going to keep arguing like, _ugh_ , an old married couple. Theo will respond with some smartass quip ( _“Yes, you do, McCall. Just ask everybody here, I’m sure they’ll agree with me.”_ ), which prompts Scott to return with his own not-so-smartass answer ( _“What! No, they won’t. Right, guys?”_ ). And, no one will come to Scott’s defense, but that’s not the point.

The point is that, the chemistry between them is great, even Stiles has to admit it (not out loud of course, not in a million years— or at least, not to anyone but his long-suffering girlfriend). The sexual tension is building; they’re subconsciously drawing closer to one another and looking like they might kiss, but that is it. They _look_ like they might do it, but they don’t. Ever. There’s no pay-off to this _sick_ game they’re playing, and Stiles has had enough of it. 

(More accurately, he’s had enough of this vicarious blue balls he’s been suffering from all of this bullshit, and he wants it to be over with.)

For the meantime, though, he sits and stews as the banter between the two offending were-creatures dies down and everyone gradually returns to whatever they were doing prior to Stiles’ outrageous comment. Lydia sends him a look from across the room where she’s sitting with Malia, but he ignores her.

Sure, this might have started out as a joke — a way to rile Theo up, because Stiles will admit, _out loud_ , that he loves to do that — but it gives Stiles an idea. If neither Scott or Theo will act on this thing between them, then Stiles will take over that responsibility for them. After all, that’s what a good bro would do.

**Two.**

So here’s the thing: Scott likes Theo and — from what Stiles can gather — Theo admires Scott in a way that can grow into something more, if the chimera would allow it. Their feelings for each other are clear to anyone who would take a moment and observe their interactions, but for reasons Stiles would rather not get into right now, the two idiots just refuse to do anything about it. 

It’s ridiculously frustrating to just stand on the sideline and watch as they skirt around it, always acting like that obvious spark of _something more_ between them is nothing beyond basic kindness and reluctant tolerance. It makes Stiles wants to do something stupid and cliché like shoving them into a closet and locking the door, not allowing them out until they’ve finally admitted that they want to jump each other’s bones.

He _would have_ done it, too, but Lydia — being his voice of reasons — held him back by the neck and told him a myriad of reasons why _that_ would be a bad idea and, not to mention, completely insane. She also argued that Stiles is simply too feeble to manhandle two grown werewolves ( _“One and a half. Theo wishes he could be a werewo— I know that’s not the point, but you should get your facts right before trying to— Ouch, Lydia! You don’t have to pinch me that hard!”_ ) anywhere, and as hurtful to the ego as that is, Stiles knows she’s right.

So, with that in mind, Stiles sets to do something he _is_ good at — research. He spends one whole night browsing on the internet and by morning, he’s equipped with a good amount of top-tier pick-up lines that are ready to be fired off at any moment, under any circumstances. The last line he used has been more of a joke — with the aim to annoy — but the next, it won’t be. Next time, he’s going to make sure that it’s direct and delivers the crystal-clear message that Scott wants that chimera ass in every way possible.

Operation Alpha and Omega (because despite what some othercertain members of the pack might say, Theo is still _not_ in it) is a go during a planning session for one of their missions to scope out a hunters’ base. For some reasons, there’s a surge in reports of hunters from regional wolf packs and known supernatural, and that’s causing them a lot of headaches.

As Argent drones about their game plan, Stiles’ attention wavers. He’s had the plan memorized the first time Argent went over it, so now he’s bored out of his mind, having to listen to the nitpicky details again, for the _third_ time. Scott, standing a little to Stiles’ left, seems to share the sentiment. The Alpha’s eyes keep drifting around the room, looking far off before focusing back again, and it doesn’t take Stiles very long to realize what he’s focusing on.

Scott’s not even subtle about it; anyone who would take a moment off of Argent’s explanation and look would probably notice it as well. Stiles wonders if Theo knows, because the way he braces his hands against the kitchen island, jutting his ass out and shifting from leg to leg periodically, feels _a bit_ deliberate.

Either way, this offers the _perfect_ opportunity for Stiles to utilize his _top-tier_ pick-up lines to not only get his best friend laid but also lighten up the mood a little. The air in the room has felt a little stale ever since they all walked in knowing what’s about to come. So, two birds, one stone.

“Hey, Theo,” Stiles calls, causing Argent to stop mid-sentence as both him and Theo turn to look at Stiles. Theo raises an eyebrow, tacitly urging Stiles to speak his mind. “Are you a library book?” Stiles asks, grinning wide as a frown forms on Theo’s face. “‘Cause Scott is checking you out.”

The mood shift in the room is almost identical to the first time. Everything comes to a standstill as every eye moves to Stiles — some confused, some amused, some are beyond horrified. The last one, of course, belongs to their resident True Alpha, whose mouth is gaping like a fish caught on land.

There’s a blush creeping up on the high of his cheeks, making his skin a shade darker. The stare from everyone else in the room — slowly shifting from Stiles to the young Alpha — certainly does not help, rendering him into a spluttering mess of “What— I wasn’t— I was just—”

Theo’s smirk in response is half-teasing, half-amused. His head cocks to the side, expression a mix of faux disappointment and innocence. “You weren’t?”

“I—” Scott starts, then closes his mouth, shrugging as he averts his gaze to the ground. “I was looking at something else. You just happened to be in the way.”

 _Oh, Scott_ , Stiles groans internally as he watches his friend trying hard not to crack under Theo’s teasing gaze. That was such a great opportunity for Scott to just _confess_. He could have said, _‘yes, I was staring at your ass like it was a delicious fruit and I was a starving man,’_ and then Stiles could finally release from this vicarious blue balls hell. 

As it is, though, Stiles turns his head up to face the Gods, silently counting his bad deeds and trying to pinpoint which one, exactly, had earned him this sort of cruel fate.

When he returns his attention back to the situation at hand, Scott is still trying to defend himself of his voyeurism. It doesn’t take enhanced hearing to guess that Scott’s heart is probably beating wildly in his chest, stuttering a beat on his lies. The wicked expression on Theo’s face tells Stiles that he probably _did_ hear it but is choosing to ignore it.

Fuck him, honestly, because _that’s_ another chance for them to get right into the matter and, _God_ , give Stiles some fucking rest. Fuck them both, really. They’re both idiots, and Stiles doesn’t fucking deserve this.

“Boys, please,” Argent cuts in finally, coming to Scott’s rescue as the Alpha doesn’t look to be having any good way out of this on his own. Stiles purses his lips, half-wishing Argent hadn’t interfered, while the other half is praising the man for ending that whole spectacle. “As _fun_ as whatever that was, we need to be certain of this plan before we go in tomorrow.”

There’s a grumble of agreement from everyone around the room, turning their attention back to Argent as the man continues on with the exit plan. Stiles raises an eyebrow at Theo, who gives him a challenging look before turning back to Argent as well. Now, the way he braces his hands on the kitchen island and juts his ass out is _definitely_ deliberate. Scott — fuck him too, honestly — tries to look anywhere but the direction of _that_ , but fails miserably after a moment, blushing hard as he does so.

Stiles watches the whole thing play out and sighs, letting Argent’s voice become a lull in the background as Stiles continues counting his bad deeds.

**Three.**

See, there’s not a person in this world that Stiles hates more than he does Theo Raeken. A lot of people come to mind; a lot of names pop up when Stiles thinks of that level of vileness, but none can really parallel to Theo _fucking_ Raeken. He’s just that bad, and that _still_ hasn’t counted all the bad shit he’s done to Stiles, to his friends and family, and more importantly, to Scott. Which, is one of the reasons why this whole thing is just so fucking mind-boggling.

Stiles has tried, but he could never wrap his head around that, out of everyone else on this godforsaken planet, Scott has chosen Theo — scum of the Earth, himself — to be attracted to. Granted, you don’t really choose who you’re attracted to (Stiles would know), but still.

It just doesn’t seem right, you know. On one hand, there’s Scott, who’s sunshine and rainbow, who embodies the sort of goodness that is rare as it is pure. One the other hand, there’s Theo, who’s the exact opposite of that; who’s evil, and the sort of poison that spreads like wildfire underneath your skin with all the intention to hurt and destroy.

There’s a mile-range of difference between the two of them, but something must have happened when Stiles wasn’t paying attention, because one moment Theo was still considered the enemy of the pack, and the next, Scott’s looking at him like he’s hung the sun, the moon, and the stars all in one day.

Whatever, though; it still doesn’t change the fact that Theo is an insufferable bastard with a stupid face and an even stupider voice. Honestly, he’s the fucking _worst_ , especially when he _knows_ he’s in the right and everyone else is in the wrong, and Stiles really doesn’t want to face him now, after everything that had gone down.

 _Everything_ here, of course, being Stiles and some other members of the pack’s unwise decision to place trust in Liam and proceed to attend dinner at the new Mexican place that, according to Liam, “has the most delicious tacos ever known to man, I _swear_ , guys.”

Now, Stiles won’t deny that yes, the food _did_ look very good when they were served, and yes, the taste was a step towards Heaven if there ever was one. In retrospect, if the ensuing disaster hadn’t happened, maybe Operation Alpha and Omega would have been a rousing success. The mood in the restaurant was right; the music was alluring; and Stiles fought tooth and nail to get Scott and Theo to sit next to each other, and that conversation would run smoothly between them. It would have been such a perfect date, if the whole pack hadn’t been there as well.

But then, of course, life had to suck a whole bag of dicks as disaster struck just five minutes later after their food was finished. Everyone — except for Theo and Lydia who were health freaks with an iron-strong resistance against delicious looking junk food — got hit with the worst stomach cramp ever. They had to haul ass out of the restaurant just seconds later, knowing that this wasn’t the kind of hell you could relieve yourself off in a public bathroom.

Scott’s house is the closest to the restaurant so they all drove there, only to realize that there weren't enough bathrooms to accommodate everyone. It was first coming, first served. Scott and Malia utilized their wolf strength and quickly went for the ones upstairs, while Stiles strategically sneaked his way into the one downstairs. He could hear the unified groan from the puppies outside as he shut the bathroom door behind him. The front door slammed shut a moment later, accompanied with the sound of a car engine roaring to life. 

They probably were heading for Liam’s house, closest one to Scott’s, and Stiles wished them safe on their travel.

After what seems like an eternity, the worst passes, and Stiles is able to rejoin the land of the living. He splashes himself with cold water from the sink, then grabs the air freshener nearby and just goes ham with it. He probably should make a sign and hang it on the door knob outside just to let Melissa and Argent know not to use this bathroom for the next, maybe, forever.

Stiles spots Theo and Scott outside through the living room window. The two are sitting next to each other on ratty-looking lawn chairs that seem way too decrepit to be able to hold up anyone’s weight, let alone two grown were-creatures. Said grown were-creatures, in the meantime, have their head close to each other, attention trapped on the phone in Scott’s hand. Whatever it is on screen, it must be funny, because Theo laughs — like, throws his head back and laughs.

The scene is so strange that it stuns Stiles a little, frozen in place on the front step of the McCall house. Stiles doesn’t think he’s seen Theo laugh so… _sincerely_ before, and he doesn’t know what to think about that. Scott, on the other hand, has a different reaction. He doesn’t look surprised at Theo’s genuine show of feeling. Instead, he has this expression on his face that Stiles can only describe as _absolute adoration_ as he gazes upon Theo, eyes glinting in the afternoon light.

It hits Stiles, then, that this goes much deeper than Stiles could have ever thought. That spark of _something more_ isn’t just a spark but might have spread to a wildfire somewhere along the way, when none of them was paying attention.

Stiles is startled out of his momentary daze as Theo stops laughing, cocking his head as he catches the sound of Stiles’ heartbeat. Turning around, the chimera smirks as he spots Stiles standing on the front step, eyes glinting wickedly.

“Feeling better, Stilinski?”

The _‘I told you so’_ is unspoken but clearly heard over the smugness on Theo’s face. Just as Stiles thought the fucker could be anything other than an annoying piece of shit. Bitterly, Stiles ignores the question and stomps his way over to where the two are sitting. He drops himself down one of the other free lawn chairs next to them.

When Stiles’ eyes find Theo’s amused ones again, he suddenly remembers a line that’s just too perfect for this situation. Smirking, he holds that eye contact as Theo grows a little uncertain.

“You know, Theo,” Stiles says, “Scott’s love for you is like his diarrhea. He just can’t keep it in.”

Stiles takes pride and joy in the way that Scott yelps, “Stiles!” at the same as Theo crunches up his nose and winces, “ _Gross_ , dude.”

“That’s the worst one you’ve come up yet,” Theo comments, shaking his head in disappointment at Stiles.

Stiles only rolls his eyes and bends over to take a can of coke from the cooler on the ground. He lets his mind wander as he watches Scott and Theo return to the conversation they were having before Stiles joined them. They seem so relaxed and familiar in each other's presence that Stiles almost feels like a third wheel. Dazedly, Stiles wishes that he _is_ actually the third wheel, and then vows to never stop his mission until his wish is finally achieved.

**Four.**

Sadly, Operation Alpha and Omega has to be put on hold after the situation with the hunters turns out to be more serious than anticipated. There’s Gerard, coming out of nowhere to, once again, wreak havoc on the peace they were having. There’s Monroe, who’s new but energetic, eager to start a war that she thinks is necessary for the wellbeing of all living humans in Beacon Hills — as if war is ever a good method to assure the wellbeing of _anyone_. And, on top of it all, there’s the Anuk-Ite, the thing has been causing all sorts of terror in the people of BH, natural and supernatural alike.

It’s fucked up that this is happening, when they’re _this_ close to finally leave this chapter of their life behind and enter a new one where they’re in college and having to worry about nothing more than school work and sleep-deprivation during exam periods. It’s even more fucked up that despite not wanting to, like any time before, Scott and, in adjacent, the rest of the pack, still shoulder this responsibility because they’re the only ones that could stop this.

Stiles can see it weighing down on Scott, and it sucks that there’s barely anything Stiles could do to ease it off him. Thankfully, though, Theo is there to help him, offering him quiet reassurance and encouragement in ways that Stiles knows he simply just _can’t_.

Once upon a time, Stiles would have questioned his motive, but as it is, after everything he’s learned and stood witness to, he knows Theo isn’t like what he used to be anymore. He’s changing, for the better, though it is a _very_ slow process. (He’s still very effectively an asshole but he’s a little _less_ , you know. He’s at least tolerable now.)

Standing where Stiles is, with the obsessive personality that Stiles has, and the mission Stiles has assigned to himself, it’s easy to see that Scott is happier now, when he’s with Theo, and Theo is getting better now, with Scott as his guide. It’s poetic, almost. The good and the corrupted; the light and the one in need of it. 

At the end of the day — and it _is_ the end of the day, now — Stiles finds himself more determined to make this work, for the both of them. Especially, when the rough time has passed, as they stand back and watch while Stiles’ dad takes Monroe and Gerard into custody. The rest of the hunters have surrendered themselves up as it became clear to them that their battle was lost. That is, until one rogue hunter head-butts the cop who was handcuffing her and grabs the weapon he’s taken from her.

In a flash, she aims and takes a shot, and Stiles is too stunned to do anything but stand and watch as the woman pulls the trigger with the muzzle aimed right at him. In another flash, something — or _someone_ — jumps right in front of him and blocks his view of the hunter. Then, there is screaming; there’s policemen setting in motion to stop the hunter from firing another shot.

Things after that are a bit hazy, moving faster than Stiles’ brain can comprehend. He takes a breath, blinking once, twice, _three_ times before his mind is clear again. He, too, sets in motion as they move Theo — out of every- _fucking_ -one, it was Theo who jumped in and took the bullet for him — into Stiles’ jeep so they could get him to Deaton.

Scott places Theo in the backseat with him, offering the chimera the same type of comfort that Stiles has seen Theo do to Scott not days before. 

“Does it hurt?” Scott asks, voice shaking a little.

“Like hell,” Theo replies. He sounds strained, but there’s also a certain softness in his voice that tends to leak out whenever he’s speaking to Scott. Stiles would know (re: Operation Alpha and Omega), which reminds him that he still has a mission to finish.

“Must be because of all that running through Scott’s dream last night,” Stiles quips, looking at Theo through his rearview mirror. Theo gives him a glare in return.

“No, asshole,” he says, rightfully indignant. “It’s hurting because I took a bullet for you. Should’ve just let you die.”

“Aw, you wouldn’t do that,” Stiles replies, smirking a little. “Scott definitely wouldn’t approve.”

Stiles can feel Theo’s eyes burning a hole on the back of his head from that.

“Stiles, focus on the road, please,” Scott chimes in, carding his fingers through Theo’s hair. Stiles watches black veins creeping up his arm through the contact and can’t help but think, _Idiots, the both of them._

Still, Stiles does as told, cutting off his own response and focusing on driving. If he hits the gas a bit harder, it’s not because he wants to get Theo to Deaton as fast as he could. He’s just worried about all that blood on his seat and how expensive it is to get it cleaned. 

**Five.**

Summertime brings all the older members of the McCall pack back to Beacon Hills after a full school year away in college. It feels good to be back, to the things Stiles was so familiar with, to his friends and family, to his people. Still, everything feels like it has changed, but also, not at all.

The puppy pack — which now seems to include Theo as well, though Stiles is not sure what to think of that — is graduating and getting ready for college. The scenery is more peaceful, more understanding, with no supernatural threats lurking in the corner ready to jump out at them.

That chapter in their life truly seems like it had ended, and Stiles can’t be more glad with what’s ahead of him. 

Which, is a fantasy he’d like to indulge in from time to time, because what’s ahead of him now is what should have already been resolved two-three chapters ago. Scott and Theo. Operation Alpha and Omega, an unfinished mission Stiles hastily left behind as he packed his things for Quantico.

Now that he’s here again, it is so disappointing to hear that there is absolutely no news in that regard. For a moment, Stiles had thought the time apart — with Theo staying behind to finish his senior year, and Scott setting off for UC Davis — would have dampened that spark — that _wildfire_ — between them. But then, the two find themselves in close proximity again, and it feels like before. 

Which, as already established so many times already, was not a good time for Stiles. He hated it then, and it’s still awful now — to stand on the sideline and watch the two joke, talk, chat, and then nothing else happens.

It’s almost a blessing when Malia suggests a game of truth and dare comes one pack night. Stiles bides his time until, finally, it’s his turn and the stars align just right as the bottle he spins lands directly on Theo.

He doesn’t jump up and cheer with all his might, but it is a close thing. Instead, he grins almost manically, ignoring the rest of the pack’s, including Theo’s, long-suffering/amused expression as they know what to come.

“Your lips seem kinda lonely, Theo. Maybe you should introduce them to Scott’s.” Theo quirks an eyebrow at him. “I dare you to kiss Scott,” Stiles clarifies.

Theo rolls his eyes, but doesn’t say anything in response. Instead, he sets his drink down the floor and crawls his way over to Scott, who is sitting on the other side of Lydia.

Scott, for his part, looks expectant, maybe a bit bashful. He doesn’t protest as Theo finally kneels in front of him. Time seems to slow down as Theo leans down, so very slowly — so much that Stiles feels more appropriate holding his breath as he watches the two — until finally, their lips make contact. For a brief second, neither moves, just holding still with their lips pressed together in some awkward variant of a kiss. 

Then, a breath is released, and Theo’s eyes flutter shut, followed quickly by Scott’s. They move against each other with the sort of familiarity that has Stiles wonders if they have ever done this before. It’s a ridiculous thought, of course, because Stiles would have definitely heard about it if they had. 

Stiles barely has any time to wonder more before, very slowly, hesitantly — just as how they’ve come together — the two pull apart. No one says a word as Theo quickly turns and makes his way back to his seat next to Liam. He doesn’t make eye contact with Scott when he’s settled down — which is fair since Scott isn’t trying so hard to do so, anyway. Instead, the two have their eyes anywhere but each other — Scott with his head bent low to hide a blush, and Theo with his eyes focused on something on the wall above Stiles’ head.

Both of them have this soft, sated smile on their lips that one wouldn’t notice if they’re not looking too closely, but Stiles _is_. He notices and can’t help but pity them. _Idiots, really_.

Later, Stiles catches the two of them in the kitchen, cleaning up the dishes they’ve eaten with earlier. They are saying something under their breath, and it’s moments like this that makes Stiles wishes he had enhanced hearing. He strains his ears but cannot catch a word of what they’re saying — only muffled noise that is immediately cut off once Scott notices Stiles’ presence.

They don’t look surprised when they turn to face Stiles, but Stiles doesn’t expect them to be anyway. Instead, they look somewhat… _somber_ , which is strange, considering the evening they just had. Stiles would ask about it, but it doesn’t feel right to do so. For once, he’s feeling guilty for having intruded on something that maybe wasn’t meant for him to witness.

So, he keeps the question to himself and instead, greets them with a teasing joke that has Theo rolling his eyes and returning to the task at hand, which is drying the dishes Scott is handing over to him. Once he’s finished, he sets the towel down and bids them a goodbye before taking his leave with Liam.

Stiles doesn’t miss the look on Scott’s face as he watches Theo leave, something that akin to woe. It breaks Stiles’ heart a little to see his friends like that, and it makes him wonder, for once, if Operation Alpha and Omega is even achievable anymore.

**\+ One.**

Stiles can’t believe this is happening, but it _is_ happening. Well, it’s hard to believe, yes, but it has been a long time coming. The union of house McCall and house Argent. 

Unlike what TV shows and sitcoms have taught Stiles about weddings, there is no panic here. There is no runaway bride or groom; there’s no second-guessing, no wishing that they had made different choices in their life. There’s no third person bursting through the church door to stop the ceremony with a long-winding love confession. There’s no raised-hand to oppose the union when the priest asked for it. In the end, it is just a simple but happy wedding, with raving support from both sides of the family.

The reception right after that is one hell of a feast. Stiles finds himself at the food table, enjoying the atmosphere of the evening and the joyous occasion. Glancing around, he spots the members of the McCall pack scattering around the garden. Scott and Malia are huddled near the stage, arguing with the DJ, presumably about his basic music picks. The puppies — sans Theo — are having the time of their life on the dance floor ( _despite_ the basic music blasting from the speaker system). Theo and Lydia are seated at their table, having a quiet conversation about — if Stiles has to guess — science, probably.

There are a lot of _could have been’s_ and _could be’s_ amongst the lot of them, but Stiles is glad this is where they end up. It used to be so hard to imagine, once upon a time, Lydia — or any of them, really — would sit down and have a peaceful, mutually interested, conversation with Theo, but here they are. Scott and Malia, at one point, looked like they could have ended up together, but never did. It doesn’t matter much because they’re still having fun now and enjoying being in each other’s presence.

Still, Stiles can’t help but wonder if it has anything to do with the _something more_ Scott could have had with Theo. Operation Alpha and Omega has never reached its conclusion, and Stiles smiles to himself, feeling that old determination return. At this point, he’s learned already that pick-up lines aren’t that effective, but he’ll still give this one away, just for old time’s sake.

“Hey, Theo,” he calls as he approaches their table, prompting the chimera and Lydia to both turn and look at him. Grinning, Stiles settles himself down the seat next to his girlfriend, eyes unmoving from Theo as he says, “I know you’re busy doing whatever reformed villain do these days, but can you add Scott to your to-do list?”

At that, Theo laughs, a genuine laugh that still stuns Stiles a little to hear. Lydia, next to Stiles, snorts, rolling her eyes even as a smile cracks over her lips.

“I thought you were done with that,” she says.

Stiles shrugs. “I was just biding my time,” he says, “Maybe this time it’ll work out, huh? So, what do you say, Theo?”

The thoughtfulness on Theo’s face seems too deliberate to be real, as he takes a moment to consider his answer. Then, with a playful smile, he replies, “Scott’s already on the list.”

Before Stiles can react beyond confusion, Scott sits down on Theo’s other side along with Malia, head slightly cocked as he asks, “I am? What list is that?”

Theo turns to him in an instance, teeth catching on his bottom lip as his entire face brightens up, eyes glinting under the overhead decorative lights. “ _My_ to-do list. Stiles asked me to add you to it, so I told him you were already on there.”

“Is that right?” Scott responds, but he doesn’t seem surprised or skeptical of Theo’s answer. Instead, his face is a mix of tenderness and affection, a soft smile caught on his lips as he gazes into Theo’s hazel eyes.

Then, they do the one thing Stiles never thought he would stand witness for (except for that one daring time). They kiss, with both leaning closer before they meet at the half point between them.

“Fucking _finally_ ,” Stiles exclaims, startling the _lovers_ apart and turning to quirk an eyebrow at him. “You’re fucking welcome, by the way.”

God, this has been a long time coming. Almost as long as this wedding, Stiles thinks, mentally patting himself on the back for the job well done. Operation Alpha and Omega can finally be put to rest now. It has been a rousing success, and Stiles can congratulate himself—

“For?” Theo prompts, sounding amused.

“For getting you two idiots together, of course,” Stiles says, prideful. “What was it, huh? Was it the kiss?”

Scott and Theo exchange a look, looking half-incredulous, half-entertained. From besides them, Lydia bites her lips to keep a smile from forming too clearly while Malia hides a snort in her drink. They all look to be in some kind of joke that Stiles has been excluded from. 

“Before that, actually,” Theo replies, smirking at Stiles’ confused frown.

“The leg line?” Stiles asks after a moment, looking incredulous at the mere suggestion.

“Nope.”

“The diarrhea line?”

“Definite no,” Scott proclaims while Theo crinkles his nose at the memory.

“The time Scott checked you out?”

“Which time?” Theo asks with a playful gleam to his eyes while Scott simply replies, “No.”

“Wait,” Stiles says, staring at them in mortification. “Don't’ tell me you did it right after I made that comment on Theo’s sweater.”

“We won’t, then,” Theo says, which doesn’t help at all with Stiles’ bewilderment.

Scott, bless him, decides to finally cut Stiles some slack and gives him the final explanation. “We’ve been together before that, dude. Maybe— hm, a month after the Wild Hunt was over. Give or take.”

Now, the sudden mood change is so apparent and reminiscent of _before_ that Stiles almost thinks he’s caught in some kind of weird-ass dream. A hallucination, maybe, because this can’t be real. It really can’t be, so the only reaction he can have to this is…

“What. The. Fuck!”

“You really didn’t know?” Scott says, chuckling a little at his best friend’s perplexed expression.

“What— How would I—”

“It was kind of obvious,” Mason comments, having joined them at the table while Stiles was having a mental breakdown over all the time lost obsessing over something that, _apparently_ , didn’t at all need his obsessing. “Also,” Mason gives Scott and Theo a blank, unimpressed look, “Corey caught you making out— not just once, by the way— when he was practicing his invisibility skill.” 

Scott at least has the decency to look bashful at that while Theo — resident pack asshole — smirks on. 

“Nothing can escape my coyote nose,” Malia says, tapping the side of her nose with her index finger.

“Yeah,” Liam chimes in, looking at Theo, “And, you weren’t as covert as you probably thought when you snuck out of the house at night, dude.”

“Or when you snuck _in_ ,” Argent — well, it should be Chris now, shouldn’t it? — supplies, arriving at the table with his lovely bride by his side. Said bride nods, giving Theo a meaningful smile which, _now_ , makes him look bashful.

“Wait, hold up,” Stiles says loudly, pulling everyone’s attention back to him. Some are looking at him with concern — which is probably very much called for, considering the wild look he’s bearing on his face. “Are you telling me that, _all this time_ , I was trying to get you two to bone, and you two, what? Already have?” 

“Well, at first it was still pretty new and we were still figuring things out for ourselves so there was not much to tell,” Scott says, looking slightly guilty. “After a while, we thought you already figured it out. We _honestly_ thought those pick-up lines you kept throwing at us were just you messing with us. You know, your way of telling us you approve or something.”

Stiles can neither confirm nor deny the approving part, but the rest is just ludicrous. How the hell did they expect him to figure it out on his own?

“How the hell did you expect me to figure out on my own, huh?” he proclaims, exasperated.

“You heard what everybody just said. We weren’t exactly being subtle,” Theo replies, earning a round of agreement from everyone at the table. “And aren’t you supposed to be super smart and intuitive, Mr. FBI? I’m surprised you even _need_ us telling you.”

Now, Stiles doesn’t launch himself at the chimera — mostly because there are too many people holding him back — but it sure is a close thing. Instead, he opts to glare a hole straight into Theo’s stupid face. Then, knowing this is a battle he can’t win, Stiles huffs and sits down in his chair once again.

There’s still a few laughs and jokes about Stiles’ sudden lapse of intellect but they don’t last for long. Soon enough, everyone moves onto a new topic, laughing and joking about something else.

Stiles sits and _not-sulks_ , watching his friends and family through a whole new lens. He watches the way Theo throws his head back and laughs at Liam’s joke; the way he stands and gives Mellissa a hug before she and her groom move on to another table, the way Scott looks like him like he hung the sun, the moon and the stars all in one day. More importantly, the way Theo returns the favor without any shame or fear or worry.

Maybe, Stiles decides, Operation Alpha and Omega is a bust, first and foremost because of its name. Somewhere along the way, Theo truly has become a part of the pack and thus, was no longer an Omega. That fact somehow eluded Stiles, and here they are. 

For the most part, Stiles can’t find it in himself to mind, has grown so used to him that the time _before_ seems distant and un-noteworthy. He holds onto that part, deciding, for once, that redemption and forgiveness truly are possible, as he joins the conversation.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, kudos and comments are much appreciated. Thanks for reading, guys.


End file.
